


Axe and Axe Inc

by Missy



Category: Burn Notice
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/M, Humor, Long Lost/Secret Relatives, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-23
Updated: 2013-06-23
Packaged: 2017-12-15 21:15:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/854144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam meets a familiar face during a stakeout and becomes involved with an old flame who leads him down a new path.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Axe and Axe Inc

  
  
Artwork by [Dances with Gary](http://archiveofourown.org/users/danceswithgary/pseuds/danceswithgary)  


“Woah,” Jesse Porter said, leaning against the passenger side door of his Mini Cooper as Sam Axe strolled out of the front door of the Empress Suites Inn. He carried a scope rifle bagged and locked over its shoulder, a submarine sandwich stuffed in his left hand. “I just washed these carpets, man, no way are you getting in my front seat with that thing.”

Sam took a huge bite of the meat-laden submarine, grinning as he chomped it down. “Unless you’re paying for lunch that’s a no-go.”

“Ugh…”

“I’ve gotta have some snack time!” Sam said, opening the passenger side seat and stowing the rifle in the back before spreading his sandwich out upon the roof of Jesse’s car and carefully re-wrapping it in its white butcher paper covering. “There!” he held up his hands and pointed toward the sandwich Good enough, mister clean?”

“Hey, no bald jokes,” Jesse protested, helping Sam climb into the car. “Still headed to Sarasota?” 

“You know it,” Sam grinned, licking his thumb and pasting back his forelocks. “Ever since Elsa and I parted ways…”

“…You mean ever since she dumped you?” Jesse slid the key into the ignition.

“…I’ve been trying to get up to Sarasota again.” He grinned, stuck out his tongue, and cracked his knuckles as Jesse pulled into the busy back street. “That’s right – it’s time to spread around a little Sam Axe love magic.”

“Right. Just don’t spray it on me,” growled Jesse, as they merged into traffic. 

***   
They discovered Fiona and her little Duce Coupe parked five miles away from their target’s house, binoculars pressed to the bridge of her nose as she leaned against the doorframe. They pulled up, slow and easy, searching for a casual approach, then strolled up to join her.

“What’s up?” Jesse asked.

“Het trunk,” said Fi, handing Jesse the binoculars. Sam peered over her head at the trailer, seeing a blonde head bent over a six-pack of soda. “Unless she’s smuggling twenties inside that Fresca, I think we have the wrong woman.”

“She likes slim jims,” Fiona observed, with a scoff. “She seems like the epitome of class. You’re sure we have the right place, Sam?”

“1212 Grammercy Court, Cherrycrest Hill Trailer Park.” He watched the curvy blonde strut her way up toward the front door and grinned stupidly. Fiona’s elbow drew him back to reality. “Right. No matter how sweet her swing is, she’s going down!”

Fiona passed him a Walther. “Take the front door, Chuckie. Jesse and I are going in the back.”

“Lil’backdoor action, eh?…OW!” 

Fiona stepped back, cleaning her fingernail with a look of disgust. “Clean behind your ears when you get home,” she ordered, and trotted down the street. 

Sam rubbed disconsolately at his bruised ear before focusing himself. In the trunk lay his suit and shades, both of which he donned before tucking a pistol into his waistband. Straightening up, he walked the distance to her front door, over the broken gravel trailway, until he rapped upon the front door with his typical energetic ‘Chuck Finley’ knock. 

No reply. He knocked once more, then stood with his hands pressed to his abdomen, tapping his foot impatiently on the concrete steps of the trailer home, and believed, for just a second, that he’d been abandoned. But suddenly the door swung open, and at that sight Sam began his speech. “Hello,” he began. “My name’s Charles Fi…” His jaw dropped at the sight stopping up the doorway. 

The blonde holding a gun trained sharply upon his face only glowered, staring him down with all of the hatred. 

“Amanda?” he muttered. 

The tip of the gun quivered as she lowered it slightly to take a better look at his face. “Sam?” 

A crash from within the trailer caused Sam to throw himself into the fray, pushing past Amanda and rushing toward the bathroom. Fiona had cut a hole in the bedroom screen, but had miscalculated the size of Jesse’s head. He lay just inside the window frame, torso stuck in space between the frame and the screen’s torn edge, arms propped against Amanda’s bed, discomfort scrawled across his features. 

“Guy? Can i get a little boost?” His arms swam uselessly as Amanda grabbed him by his elbow and hauled him into the room.

“Okay,” Amanda snapped, surveying the group with dismay. I don’t know what Sam’s told you about me,” she turned her gaze toward Fiona. “Or what you mean to him. But you’re all trespassing on private property, so if you don’t explain to me what you’re doing here in two minutes….” She reached behind the bedframe, pulling a rifle into view, hefting it onto her shoulder and cocking it. “Then the swamp’s gonna have a few more logs floating in it.”

“Mandy…” began Sam, his hands outstretched in supplication. A bullet whizzed a millimeter over the tip of his index finger, silencing further argument. 

“Get off my land. Now.” 

Fiona reached for the tiny pistol holstered within the breast pocket of her suit, but Sam latched onto her elbow, pulling her off the bed, toward the doorway. He could almost hear Mike in the back of his hea, chastising him to while Jesse followed.

“There’s gotta be a better way,” Sam said. “Come on, Mandy, you know I wouldn’t try and hurt you!” Another shot rang out as he ducked out of the room. “I didn’t even know you were here!”

She glared him down as he slunk backward through her house. “Then you’d best forget you saw me. You know we’re nothing but old news now.”

The wooden door creaked alarmingly as it closed in Sam’s face.

*** 

“THAT was Amanda?” Fiona scoffed as she tucked into her salad. Sam leaned miserably on the bartop, propping his chin against his palm.

“In the flesh. I haven’t seen her in fifteen years.” He shook his head. 

“Fifteen years?” Fiona raised an eyebrow, silently mocking Sam’s relationship skills, but he didn’t rise to the bait.

“It didn’t end well for either of us.” He rested his beer against his lower lip, pulling in a deep sip. “We kinda lost track of each other after she cheated on me by banging my best friend.”

“She cheated on you with Michael?”

“No. My OLD best friend. The guy with the cowboy hat?” Sam sighed at Fiona continued to feign ignorance. “Mack.”

“Oh yes, him,” Fiona said lightly. “What an unfortunate situation that was.” She sipped her martini. “How could I ever forget?”

“That’s because you didn’t.” 

“Did you have a point, Sam?”

He sputtered. “Yeah, well. I don’t think Amanda’s our gal. She’s a good girl. No way would she get into bed with a bunch of drug dealers.”

“Oh honey,” Fiona teased. “Are you still hung up on her after all these years?”

His eyes flew to meet Fi’s face. “NO. No, Fi, Amanda’s my past. Just let me talk to her alone,” Sam requested, leaving his empty beer bottle as he slipped off his stool and headed for the doorway. “Oh, you don’t mind paying?”

“Have I ever?” Fiona wondered – then placed Sam’s drink on Michael’s outstanding tab.

 

*** 

This time, Amanda came to the door with a .45 clutched in her hand.

“Still me,” Sam said, holding both of his hands up and out.

The door pivoted open, revealing Amanda, her Areosmith tee-shirt and her tiny cut-off jeans. Her blonde hair had been recently tinted, but it haloed her face beautifully. Sam gulped; she still looked good, even with twenty extra miles on her. “I warned you, Sam,” she said. “We finished this conversation yesterday.”

“C’mon Mandy,” Sam insisted, pushing his way into the house. “You can’t tell me you’ve spoken your peace. After you and Mack cut me out of the kids’ lives…”

“I dare you to tell me that wasn’t justified,” she growled. Her index finger tapped the trigger, eyes sharply focused upon his face.

“I wasn’t the easiest guy to deal with. I get that!” Her eyes narrowed and he plunged ahead, “but I didn’t mean to hurt any of you. Just please let me talk to you. It’s about the kids’ futures.”

Amanda’s eyes remained steely, but she backed out of the doorway and pointed to the empty leather easy chair in the living room. Stiffly, cautiously, Sam took it.

“Start talking,” she ordered. “You have twenty minutes before Kayla gets home.”

“Kayla’s still here?” Hope sprung up inside Sam. 

“Yeah,” Amanda said. “She’s helping me out around the house.”

“With the family business? Whatever…” he eyed the interior of the trailer again. “That is.”

She glared right through him. “You never did like my style.”

“I loved it,” he countered, giving her a crooked smile. “We just never figured out to combine yours with mine.”

“Because you always wanted something finer.” Amanda leaned against the doorframe, watching him with a moderate amount of disdain. “Is the penthouse worth it?”

“I’ll let you know when I get there.”

“But you were there,” Amanda countered. “Haven’t you replaced Elsa yet?”

“How’d you know about that?” he asked.

“I have my sources,” she replied. “It’s part of the family business.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Whoever you’re working for,” Sam said, “I hope they appreciate you.”

She laughed. “I told you, it’s a family business.” He frowned. “I’m working for the person who appreciates me most. Myself.”

Sam chuckled in return. “You haven’t changed a day.”

“I’ve tried not to. The kids needed something normal when you walked out on us.”

His teeth grated against each other. “I wasn’t the on doing the horizontal watusi with my best friend.”

Amanda rested against the butt of the gun, true sorrow showing in her eyes. “What did you expect me to do, Sam? You were gone for four years, eighty percent of what you did was ‘classified’, and whenever you’d come home on leave you you’d sit in that stupid recliner and stare at the wall!”

His friendly expression cracked. “You knew what it was like. Your dad was navy and your brother too…”

“But you weren’t like them! You were cheerful and you were good with kids. You weren’t closed off or hard.” 

“Like you?” Sam said.

She stood straighter. “I had to survive. Mack and I were living hand to mouth for awhile – his pension got us through, but, well…” She picked up the gun again, checked its sites. “I had to eat.”

“That’s where we part ways, baby,” said Sam. “I’d rather starve on the street before getting into bed with drug dealers.”

“..What?” responded Amanda, frowning.

The front door swung open, admitting a pretty, dark-haired sixteen year old walking a pit bull on a long leash. “Mom? She finally figured out how to catch….” The girl trailed off. “Dad?” she asked.

“Kayla,” Sam smiled awkwardly, for once taken completely off guard by her appearance. He stood and moved toward her, arms open for a hug.

Her punch landed dead between his eyes, turning the world black and knocking him out cold.

*** 

“…Press the steak to it, good and tight,” Amanda was saying somewhere over Sam’s head. He cracked open his good eye to witness his ex-wife and his daughter fighting over his head. “That was such a dumb thing to do. How many times have I told you to think before acting?”  
“I can handle it,” said Kayla. He stared down at her father, disdain on her features. “But he couldn’t.”

“That’s no way for either of you to talk about your dad,” Sam said, pointing toward the blurred image of his daughter.

“Stop worrying about me, mom,” Amanda said. “I’ve had practice. I promise it’ll never be like THAT again.”

“Don’t bring up the Capitol Hill job again.”

“Wait…jobs?” Sam sat up. “Whatt’re you guys really up to?”

“Didn’t she tell you?” Kayla replied. “We’re bounty hunters.”

Sam sat up, clutching his head. “Woah. Whatt’re you guys thinking?! That’s way too dangerous for…”

“…For a couple of sweet young things like us?” Kayla rolled her eyes. “Oh please. Ever since mom dumped Mack – which was a really dumb move…”

“Watch your…”

“…and Jack left town mom and I have been on our own.” She patted the dog’s head. “A birthday card every year and a couple of pretty dolls from Venezuela didn’t fill our bellies, so we did what we could do.” 

Sam got up, excuses on his lips. “Kayla…” the dog growled, and Sam took a step backward, but Amanda headed him off, moving Sam toward the door again.

“We’re fine, we don’t need you,” Amanda pushed him toward the door, “we’ve NEVER needed you. So take your steak and get out.”

“You can’t stop me from caring,” he said, shoving a business card into her hand.

Amanda shook her head. “You’re fifteen years too late for that…” She glanced at the card. “Chuck Finley.” And then she closed the door.

*** 

Sam sucked down another mouthful of strawberry daiquiri. “So that’s why I need you to look into their connections. Think you can help me out?”

Barry jiggled his mojito straw against his tongue, coughed, played with his watch. Sam’s intense gaze melted right through his cheery phisod. “Afraid I can’t help you with this one.”

“Oh yeah? Gonna tell me why that is before I remind you of all the little favors you’ve done me?”

“Because,” Barry admitted, sitting up a little bit straighter, “it’s a conflict of interest.”

“Uh, I remember a certain someone peeing his pants while we were hiding under a bathtub a couple of months ago. You kinda owe me.” 

“I might, but I’m working for Amanda.”

Sam’s jaw dropped. “Woah, wait a minute - when did this little thing start?”

“When she mentioned she needed a money guy to keep it on the up and up at her office; take care of the files, keep the computers in working order…”

“So you’re her secretary?”

Barry frowned. “I’m an associate. After our last little trip to ridiculous, I decided to cool off a little and go legit.”

“Yeah, nearly getting shot by Serbs can clear the air right up.”

“Be proud of me, man – you got me this job. Amanda remembered me from something you told her at some point…”

“Yeah, that you were cheap and have no class but you’re as fast as an adding machine.”

Barry smirked. “I guess she thinks that’s a bonus.” Sam growled and quickly Barry continued on. “It turned out that I had some connections that she needed. I know all the guys you know at the county courthouse, but they want me off their case. I know all of the bad guys who want to get bonded out of jail. One hand washes the other – and on the weeeknds I can crack files.”

“Whatever, Bar. Keep living the dream.” Sam’s cell phone buzzed to life, and he yanked it out of his pocket. “Sam Axe speaking.”

“Sam! I need you.”

Amanda hadn’t said those words to him in years, but they made Sam stand at attention. “Where are you?”

“The Hilton! Hurry, please!”

Sam shut his phone. “She’s in trouble. Feel like playing back-up?”

“No,” Barry gloomed.

“Too bad,” said Sam, holding out a jingling keyring. “’Cause I took these while you were in the john!”

“Hey!” Barry shouted, following Sam’s fleetfoooted run to the door, but he knew he’d signed up for a late afternoon rescue mission. 

*** 

Sam nearly ripped the door off of Barry’s Cutlass Sedan as he pulled up to the front of the hotel to find Amanda pacing between the parked cars, chainsmoking. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“It’s Kayla. I made the mistake of telling her you were tailing one of our guys.” Amanda took a thick puff from her cigarette. “She was furious that I bonded the guy out, and the idea of you taking him in only made it worse. I woke up to a missing car, the GPS traced her here.”

Sam’s forehead wrinkled. “You live in a trailer and you can afford a GPS?”

“Why, Are you jealous?” Amanda glared. “It was Mack’s car, and we don’t live in the double-wide, it’s more of a crash pad.”

“CRASH pad?” he sputtered. “When you’re coming down from…”

“When we’re running surveillance all night and don’t want to drive across town,” shot back Amanda. “The job comes first for us.”

A scream pealed out from above their heads. “Kayla!” exclaimed Amanda, and Sam rushed for the front door of the hotel. That likely saved his life, for the scream grew louder until a rather large man in a leather vest careened to the concrete sidewalk and promptly splattered to a stop where Sam had been. 

“Ohh!” Barry groaned. “That’s gonna replace the dot com crash in my nightmares.” 

Amanda tilted her head upward, a huge and relieved smile on her face. When Sam came to stand behind her, he followed her gaze to Kayla’s beaming face, five floors up and framed by the ragged edges of a broken floor-length window.

She had a shiner, but she was alive.

**  
Amanda’s office was a pretty but small clapboard house several miles off the main drag, on a street that could have been pulled from Disneyland’s Main Street USA. Holding a cup filled with ice to her forehead, Kayla watched Sam make a call back home.

“So Barry’s taking care of the body. Looks like I’ll be here a little while longer, but I’ll give you a ring from the 505 when I’m out. …Right. Aren’t I always? Night, Mikey.”

Kayla raised her eyebrows. “That the guy you named me after?”

“Yep. Good old Mike Westen, the guy you’re using to distract me.” He sat down on her mother’s desk. “What in the name of God made you run off like that.”

She glared at him. “You don’t know what it’s like, being Sam Axe’s little girl. I had your picture up on my wall since I was a little girl, and even when mom was married to Mac she’d tell me to be good for my daddy because he’s always going to be watching over me. And I’d see you every once in awhile; in a picture stuck in my Christmas present, or in my mother’s wallet. You were like a household saint.” She sat up straighter. “One that was too good to come down to see me.”

“That’s not true,” Sam immediately insisted. “Your mom and I decided it’d be better for you if I didn’t see either of you so I waived my visitation rights. I know it’s wasn’t the kindest thing, and it was hell on me, too, but we were trying to protect you and your brother both, in case I didn’t make it out alive. The way I was living I might’ve died in the trenches any day.”

“That wouldn’t have made it hurt less,” she said, wobbling to her feet. “My whole life I’ve been trying to beat that guy in the picture. The second I did it you showed up.”

“Kayla…” She opened the door to find her mother standing there with the dog.

“Are you safe to drive home?”

“Always,” she said, retreating from the room.

Sam watched her retreat, wincing as he met his ex wife’s eyes. “Uh..hi, little guy.” He crouched to greet the bulldog, who immediately growled at him.

“It’s a she,” Amanda said, stiffly sitting at the opposing side of the desk. The leash trailing across her inner thigh, she looked down and away from him. “Sam, thanks for showing up to help me, but everything’s under control, so feel free to walk out the door and go back to your life.”

Sam scoffed. “You think it’s all clear here?! Sister, our kid ran away from home to beat up a suspected arms dealer and you’re working with a money launderer!”

She shrugged. “And it was working fine until you showed up.”

“How many bad guys have you beaten up so far?”

“We’ve brought several hundred fugitives to justice.” She smiled at his surprise. “How’s them apples.”

“Surprisingly firm.” She laughed. “You really look real good, Mandy.” 

She shook her head, laughing at his mild pass. When Sam’s phone rang again, he actually minded the distraction. “Finley residence.”

“Sam,” Michael’s strident voice poured in through the earpiece, “We’ve got a situation.”

***

Sam gaped at the scene waiting for him at Michael’s loft. Sitting in the drive of Fiona’s rented abode was the ‘parting gift’ Cadillac he had won from Elsa.

And it was on fire.

“Do you have any idea who would want to do this?” Michael asked as the fire department cleaned things up.

“only one guy – the same one we’ve been tracking.”

“Illya?” Michael asked.

Sam clenched his fist. “The sick bastard took my daughter hostage this afternoon. She kicked his cronies’ butts from here to Chinatown, but she didn’t get the guy.”

“How do they know him?”

“My ex-wife bailed him out of jail.”

“An affair?”

“Nope. On bond.” Sam rubbed his temples. “We need help, Mike.”

Michael grinned. “I’m on it.”

**

As they marshaled their resources, Sam could almost hear Michael’s inner monologue; Sam knew Mikey well enough to guess that he was probably thinking about trust; why trusting your client whom you just sprang from a 3-to-20 deal in the Oskaloosa for a hundred thousand might just go back to his old ways and endanger you, your family and the bond you have vested in him. Which was why, for once, they were arming up with bean bag rounds, pepper spray and tasers; they wanted this guy to make it back alive. Secretly, he thought they could be spending their time more productively springing a surprise on him, but Mike wanted Fi to sneak in as a ‘lost girl’ to better distract them and weaken their defenses.

“Because I’m the only one in this lot who can speak flawless Spanish,” Fiona said, frowning at the gun as she loaded it for Amanda. 

“Wouldn’t Russian be easier?” pouted Kayla. 

“No, because they don’t want us to know they’re Russians. They spoke to you in Spanish?” She noddd. “Good. And you ain’t leaving this loft,” Sam declaimed. Fiona kept staring at her gun with an expression of total dismay, forcing Sam to burst out with a, “what’s stuck up your nose?”

”Do we have to use these?” Fiona asked, shouldering her gun. “It feels like a sin to use beanbags when a world’s worth of ammunition’s right at my little fingertips.”

“Not every occasion calls for C4, Fiona.” Michael glanced over his shoulder at Amanda. “Do you have their location?”

Amanda nodded. “Off Highland Parkway.”

“Near the YMCA?”

“The one and only. They’re probably using it as a cover. All we need to do is stake out the car and we’ll get our guy and his goons.”

“Good work Amanda,” Michael praised. 

“Oh, don’t thank me - thank my brilliant daughter.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Our brilliant, almost-kidnapped daughter…” 

“Guys,” warned Michael.

Sam donned his sunglasses. “Whatever. Let’s beat feet – I’ve got a massage appointment at ten.”

Amanda shot him a wounded glance before sauntering away, but only Michael noticed that Sam’s eyes followed her the whole way.

 

**** 

“You still have feelings for her.”

Sam pulled the binoculars away from his face and glared at Michael. “She’s my kids’ mom, and we were married for eight years, Mike. You know those feelings don’t just jump up and walk off.”

“It’s more than that – you’re worried about them,” observed Michael. “Funny how you stopped talking about them after the divorce.”

“That was different. They had Mac to look after them, and they needed stable. Which is what he gave them. And since when are you good with relationship stuff, Mikey?”

“Since I’m the one in a committed relationship,” he observed calmly. 

“Yeah well – I still know way more about women.”

“Right. I still remember when you called her your canoe,” Michael said.

As Sam glowered, the radio crackled to life. “Here they come,” Fiona announced.

Sure enough, there were Ilya and his men, strolling out of the Y in million-dollar Armani suits; and Fi instantly straightened her skirt and went into a bedraggled ‘woe is me’ pose. While she charmed the three men, Sam kept an eye on their hands; Fi would just have to trick them into the human snare Amanda, Michael and Sam had made.

Sam’s eagle gaze was the one who first noticed Ilya’s fidgeting. “Mike,” Sam hissed, “they’ve got…”

But before Ilya could draw his weapon, a shot rang out from the roof of the Y. A shout of confusion filled the air as Ilya grabbed his shoulder, cursing; Fi drew her weapon as Mike, Sam and Amanda poured out of their cars. All three men fell to their knees, outmatched

“Who the hell did that?” Sam wondered as he ‘accidentally’ placed more weight than necessary against Ilya’s shoulder, trapping him against the pavement.

“Look up,” laughed Amanda.

He did. And sure enough, on the roof - with Sam’s sniper rifle – crouched Kayla.

*** 

The following week, they re-convened in Amanda’s little office. The party was in full-swing, paid for by the bond they’d managed to cash in on their little fugitive friend; Barry was drunkenly hitting on Fiona and Amanda was dancing with Jesse in the corner of the porch.

“…I don’t care how good a job you did,” said Sam to Kayla, passing her a cup of punch, “we’re not making you full partner.”

“Really, Sam?” Kayla asked, petting her dog’s head. “What do you think about that, Scraps?”

The pitbull lifted one ear but didn’t move. 

“Don’t call me Sam,” Sam demanded. “And you don’t get to decide that, do you Scraps?

He reached for the pitbul’s head and backed off at its growl, wincing at Kayla’s laugh as she got up off the wicker rocking chair

Michael took her place instantly. “Are you really sure about this, Sam? Starting over all the way across town, living in a trailer?”

“I’ve been in worse places, ex-partner,” Sam grinned.

“We’re gonna miss you,” Michael said. The two men automatically embraced.

“Hey,” Sam said, wrapping his arms around Michael’s neck, “take care of Tinkerbelle for me. And any time you need me, just gimmie a ring.”

“Likewise,” Michael grinned.

“Guys!” Amanda called. She and the rest of the family had shifted to watch her unveil the sign she’d spent a good chunk of their bond money on.

When the gold-lined letters were revealed, Sam let out a holler of surprised laughter.

“Axe and Axe Inc: Bailbondsmen,” it read, shining like a torchlight, pointing them all toward a hopefully, action-packed future filled with laughter.

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fanfiction containing characters from **Burn Notice**. No infringement for monetary gain has occurred.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Artwork for 'Axe & Axe' by rise_your_dead](https://archiveofourown.org/works/852956) by [danceswithgary](https://archiveofourown.org/users/danceswithgary/pseuds/danceswithgary)




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